Awakening
All nature sleeps in winter freeze.
Soil lies dormant, catching snowflakes;
drinks raindrops, waiting for the sun
to heat its body - sufficient
to nurture life’s awakening.
Like needles piercing burlap,
green shoots push upward thru soil;
strain toward light, leaning in the wind.
Dull hues change to rainbow bright.
A new cycle begins.
A version of this poem was
first published in IDEALS Magazine
Easter Edition, 2006
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
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